You Are Not Alone
by Garie June
Summary: What if one day, all of a sudden, someone told you that your life is a lie; that the family you've known your entire life is, in reality, not your family at all. Join Roxy as the world she once knew falls completely apart only to reveal something about herself that she never thought possible. Set right after Voyage Of The Damned.
1. Prologue

**An idea I've been working on. I don't know if I'll ever get around to actually finishing it, but for now, here it is.**

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The Doctor looked around his TARDIS. It wasn't common for him to feel the way he did, so…apprehensive. He hated how barren it was, without anyone in there. He always seemed to have someone, a companion, a friend, someone to talk to. He contemplated how close he had been to having a new…no. We mustn't think of the past. In any case, who knows how much trouble Astrid would've gotten into if she'd come with him? That seemed to be all he was to his companions: trouble.

Maybe what he needed was a getaway, a vacation of sorts. Some relaxing place in the universe with no angels, Daleks, or anything potentially harmful or dangerous. He could use a place like that every once in a while. He went to the controls, thinking of a place, but for the first time, nothing came to mind. The Doctor leaned over his TARDIS, a deep, terrible loneliness catching hold of him. _It's not easy….It never is easy to be the only one…_

"No, it's not," the Doctor said to himself. "And it never will be, will it?"

Suddenly, the TARDIS's engines roared to life. The Doctor looked up at them in confusion.

"What?" he said loudly, not entirely sure what was going on. He hadn't put any coordinates in, and he sure as hell hadn't touched anything. The TARDIS was flying on its own accord, but where to? The Doctor looked at the screen, trying to figure out what was going on. Coordinates appeared on the screen, and a place became apparent. Earth, 2012, America.

The Doctor grabbed on for dear life as he fell through time and space. Finally, he came to a stop.

He looked at the TARDIS's doors, as if waiting for someone to open them. _Well, _he thought to himself. _There's only one way to find out what this is all about._

Armed with his favorite trench coat and his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor opened the door.


	2. The Theater Geek

**The first chapter in my little story. Warning, everyone involved in this chapter is an OC. Other Doctor Who characters will show up in later chapters. **

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"Thank you all for coming," a short, thin girl with curly blonde hair said. The group of people in front of him shifted a bit, anxious to be dismissed. Scripts rustled, a boy in the crowd coughed, and in an electric saw whirred to life backstage.

"You did well for your first rehearsal, but please work on memorization." The girl continued. "Keep in mind that we have a time limit. Now then, I'll expect to see all of you back here next week, so we can start blocking with an actual set." The crowd waited impatiently. Even though the only lights they could see were those on the stage, summer still called out to them. Already they had been here for four hours, and any more might have proved fatal to the young director, who was, unfortunately, oblivious.

Finally, the words: "you're dismissed" rang through the empty auditorium. In a flash, two-thirds of the cast was out the door. The blonde girl sighed as she watched the crowd leave. One particular girl with wavy brown hair tried to weave her way to the front of the crowd without being noticed, which was a bit of a challenge, considering her height. At almost six feet, she towered over her fellow actors, and though it gave her quite an advantage on the stage, it didn't do so much for her hiding skills.

"Roxy!" The blonde girl called out. "Can I talk to you?"

The brown-haired girl stopped in her tracks and turned slowly towards her friend, a look between guilt and vexation on her face. "What's up, Candace?" By now, the two of them were the only ones left on the stage.

"I was wondering if you could give me some insight." Candace replied. "I mean, on the whole directing thing. Do you think I'm doing a good job?"

Roxy gave a longing glance at the rest of the group, all of them making their way out into the summer sun. "I…think you're doing wonderfully. You certainly know what you're doing, don't you think?"

"But what if it turns out I'm terrible at it, or that I was never meant to do this in the first place?" Candace replied mournfully. "What if by the end of this everyone hates me?"

"I think they hate you already," Roxy murmured to herself.

"Huh?" Candace said.

"Nothing," Roxy replied. "Listen, you're doing fine. Nobody can hate you yet, you just got started."

"Yeah, but—"

"Enough with your woes, Candace," Miss Minerva, the theater teacher, said, walking onto the stage. "This was only your first rehearsal, and there are many more to come. Don't have a breakdown yet."

Candace nodded, knowing well enough not to complain to Miss Minerva. The teacher was very tall, very imposing, and on certain occasions, very scary. She was a woman of almost sixty years, with graying black hair, but was probably still as strong as an ox.

"Now then, Candace, go home and rest." Miss Minerva continued. "You have a long month ahead of you." Candace nodded and left the stage. Roxy was about to follow her when Miss Minerva said: "Not you, Roxy. It's your turn to clean up."

"But I—" Miss Minerva put up a hand to stop Roxy's argument.

"I understand that you have a busy life, Roxanne, but you're as much part of this club as anyone else, and you need to pull your own weight. Besides, we don't want any complaints from those idiots who run the church." Miss Minerva turned to walk away. "Lionel will help you. Don't stay too late."

Roxy frowned. She waited until the door closed and she was alone on the stage. "Pull my own weight? I do more around here than half the members, and I'm not even an officer!" She sighed a bit when there was no reply. What sort of reply was she expecting, anyway?

"Cutter!" She yelled at the top of her lungs. She had to sometimes for him to hear her. That boy spent most of his free time lurking around every corner of the theater, trying to find hidden rooms and passageways. One time he managed to find an entire room above the catwalk.

"What?" came the reply, not as far away as Roxy had expected.

She walked towards the sound of his voice. "Where are you?"

Cutter, sometimes known as Lionel, walked out of the classroom that was adjoined to the theater. "Here," he said. "Hey, are you in a hurry?"

Roxy shrugged. "I would like to get out of here soon, yeah."

Cutter smiled. "My goodness, you used to be so sad whenever you had to leave the theater, now you can't wait to get out. What's changed?"

Roxy looked away. "I don't know. I just feel…strange nowadays. Like I shouldn't be here or something. It just feels…sinister."

"Oh, the theater ghosts are just getting to you." Cutter said, reaching over to ruffle his friend's hair. "There's nothing sinister here. You're just a little stressed, that's all. It is summer and you haven't even taken a chance to rest. That can't be healthy."

Roxy felt her pulse quicken, and she hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt. She reminded herself that Cutter was always this way towards her, showing concern for her well-being. That didn't necessarily mean anything. He acted that way towards plenty of people, not just her. _Still, _her mind said. _You get to spend the day cleaning up with him. _

But despite the fact that she was with her heart's desire, she still felt uneasy in this place. As a younger student, the theater had been like a second home to her. Each play brought on a new lesson, a new adventure. Now, she was on the brink of becoming a junior, and everything was changing. The people in the Theater Club weren't as welcoming as they used to be. But she could understand that quite easily. Roxy had quite a bit of talent, and she knew just how to use it, and her fellow actors really hated that about her.

But something else was bothering her. As a freshman and sophomore, the walls of the theater had always had a welcoming, warm, home-like feel to them. She had never felt lost or alone within them. Now, they were cold, heartless. It was like the theater itself was rejecting her, and that felt worse that any hostility brought on by her peers.

"So," Cutter said, opening the supply closet. "Are you going to just stand there, or are we going to get this place cleaned up?"

Roxy shook herself out of whatever mental carousel she had just been on, and picked up a broom. The sooner she left these empty walls, the better.

"Do you know what time it is?" Cutter asked after a little bit.

"I don't know. I don't have a watch." Roxy replied, sweeping in a mechanical type of way.

"Yeah you do," Cutter said, stacking cardboard boxes in a corner. "You have that odd-looking old-fashioned one that you always carry around. The one with the weird circles on it."

Roxy felt at the little bulge in her pocket where she, indeed, had an old watch. "It doesn't work."

"So why do you keep it?" Cutter asked.

Roxy paused, her hand over her pocket. Why did she keep it? She never much bothered to ask herself this question. She just…always had it with her, even when she was a little girl. She had never asked about it, never cared enough to figure out where it came from.

"I just like it." Roxy finally replied.

All of a sudden, she heard a noise. She stopped sweeping, turning her head to hear it better. It was some sort of engine, but it sounded almost…alive.

"Do you hear that?" Roxy whispered to Cutter, who was now arranging costumes nearby.

"Hear what?" Cutter asked, folding a long skirt with great care.

Roxy strained to hear better, but just like that, the noise was gone.

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**Thank you for reading! I would really appreciate some reviews :D**


	3. Don't Blink

**Another short chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**

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The Doctor frowned, finding it hard to open the TARDIS door. He seemed to have landed in some sort of closet.

"Come on, then," the Doctor said, shoving the door open. He found himself in a large closet filled with all sorts of strange lights. The TARDIS door had been stopped by some lights that had been dumped on the floor. "Now why did you bring me here?" the Doctor asked, looking around. At the other end of the room there was a door, propped open. The Doctor peeked out.

He was in some sort of theater, as far as he could tell. He was in the twenty-first century, but the place was at least three or four decades old. He stepped out of the closet and looked around. One door led out into the audience area, another into some sort of dressing room, and a third led up to the catwalk. He took out his sonic screwdriver and saw what he could make of the place. Right away he could tell that something wasn't quite right.

The Doctor heard a voice. He looked around, but the place was empty. He walked a bit backstage before seeing a couple of figures, one with a broom, the other standing by a rack full of clothes. They both seemed to be teenagers, one male and one female, both human. No, they weren't the source of his discomfort. So what was this strange feeling he was getting?

He started opening doors, looking into the different rooms within the theater. If there was something, anything, hiding in here, he'd be sure to find out what it was. He found a door labeled "props." It was locked, but he easily opened it with his sonic screwdriver. He turned the knob slowly, hoping not to startle whatever creature he happened to find in there. Finally, he stepped inside, looked around, and felt both his hearts fill with dread.

There in the corner, its eyes covered, as usual, stood a Weeping Angel. It was in the corner, in between tables, couches, cardboard cars, and an assortment of other random items. To anyone who merely happened to glance at it, it would look like an ordinary statue, but the Doctor knew better. He stared at it as he closed the door slowly, making sure not to take his eyes off of it until the door was securely closed and locked once again. Then, the Doctor ran. Or, tried to run, mind you, but was unfortunately detained by having crashed straight into a human being.

The Doctor caught the girl before she could fall. She looked at him with a shocked expression, too stunned for words.

"Sorry to startle you," said the Doctor. "But could you tell me, why is there an angel in your props room?"

Roxy stared at the Doctor, searching desperately for words. What is there to say when some skinny guy with a mess of brown hair jumps out at you from the props closet? Roxy sure as hell didn't know. Still, she had to say something.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Never mind that," the Doctor said, growing impatient. "Listen to me. Angel, closet, what's that all about?"

Roxy shook her head in an attempt to clear it. "Who the hell are you, and what are you doing in my theater?"

The Doctor sighed, but of course, this human wouldn't tell him anything until he gave her some sort of identification. He reached into his coat and took out his psychic paper.

"John Smith, theater inspector." The Doctor said, knowing quite well that that was one of the most pathetic aliases he had ever come up with. "I'm here to make sure you're…using the right type of lighting."

Roxy took the paper in her hand and stared at it intently. "Do you think I'm an idiot? This is a blank piece of paper."

"What?" The Doctor snatched the paper back. Of course it was blank when he looked at it, but his psychic paper worked on nearly everyone, especially humans. He looked back at the girl in front of him. Could it be that she wasn't human?

"Anyway," Roxy continued. "Whoever you are, you're not allowed to be here without Miss Minerva or another teacher around. Get out of here before you get me into trouble."

"Listen to me," said the Doctor. "Fine, I'm not and inspector. I'm the Doctor, and there is something in your closet that shouldn't be here. Tell me what it's doing here so that I can get rid of it and be on my way."

"I don't know what it is," Roxy replied. "I don't go in the props closet, only the props mistress and her assistants are allowed in there. We may just be a high school theater, but we have rules."

The Doctor sighed with frustration. He looked into the closet through a hole in the door. The angel had definitely moved closer.

"This isn't good," the Doctor said. "It's started moving. It probably saw me while I was closing the door, which means it'll work out what I am soon enough."

"What are you talking about?" Roxy asked. "What's in there?"

"It's called a Weeping Angel. Look," said the Doctor, letting Roxy look through the hole in the door. "That statue in the corner, have you ever seen it?"

"Well, yeah, a couple of times." Roxy said. "It's been in there since I first got here. We never use it for anything, though. I think someone donated it, but we just never had the energy to pull it out. Is there something wrong with it?"

"What, it's been here for two years and nobody's touched it?" the Doctor asked. "You haven't had anyone disappear mysteriously? It's never moved from that corner?"

Roxy paused. "There is a story, but the cops suspected it was foul play. There was a girl I knew. The seniors say she went into this closet when she wasn't supposed to and never came out." She shook her head. "But those are just stories to keep us from touching anything important."

"A girl disappeared?" the Doctor.

"There was a search for her and everything, but there's no proof that it actually happened here." Roxy said. "This place is full of tragedies. After a while they just become ghost stories, except for those of us who know it really happened." She paused. "What's a Weeping Angel?"

"It's…an alien," the Doctor said, remembering that by this time, humans were quite aware of the fact that there was more in the universe than just them. "They're beings that feed off the potential time energy of others. If they touch you, you're sent back in time and they consume your time energy. It's happened to me before. Nasty creatures, but they have quite a defense mechanism. They're quantum locked, which means that—"

"They can't move in the sight of another living creature." Roxy finished, almost automatically.

The Doctor paused. "What did you say?"

"I, um, no, nothing," Roxy replied, sure that she had said something wrong, although she had no idea where that last sentence had come from.

The Doctor looked at her cautiously. This girl was proving to be much stranger than he imagined. First the psychic paper, then this?

"What's your name?" He asked her.

"Roxy Baker," she replied.

"How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

The Doctor looked at her closer. She certainly seemed human. Still, he wanted to get out of this place as soon as he figured out how to get rid of the Angel. He made sure that the door to the props closet was secure, sneaking one last peek at the Angel. It was closer.

"Well, I don't suppose a locked door is going to hold this creature for long," the Doctor contemplated. "And by now I'm sure it knows I'm here. And this is the only one in this place?"

It took Roxy a second to realize that the question was meant for her. "Yeah, I mean, if we have another one, I've never noticed it. Why?"

"Because if there's only one, there's no way of tricking it into looking into the eyes of another," the Doctor said. "Which leaves us with only one thing to do."

"What's that?" Roxy asked.

"Don't blink."


	4. The Anomaly

**I'm hoping I actually manage to finish this story, because I'm actually starting to like it. Anyway, things get a bit confusing from this point on, so if you have any questions, let me know. **

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The Doctor ran from the door, across the backstage area, and towards the place where Cutter was still working on costumes. Roxy followed, completely unsure of what was going on.

"Now then," said the Doctor, stopping in front of the now incredibly confused Cutter. "You two have done a wonderful job; I think it's time for the two of you to go home." He took the shirt that Cutter was folding and started to steer them both towards the door. "Don't you worry about a thing. Go on, then."

"Who is this guy?" Cutter asked Roxy.

"Wait a second." Roxy said, moving away from the Doctor. "We can't just leave you here. We're not allowed to leave strangers unaccompanied."

"Roxy, this is a bit more important that your rules," the Doctor replied impatiently. "Now get out of here and go home. I'll take care of it."

"I won't let you." Roxy said, imitating the Doctor's irritated tone. "Whatever happens in this theater, I am responsible for. So tell us what we need to do, and we'll get it done."

"Wait," Cutter said. "What are you two talking about? And why is the stone angel out of the props closet?"

The Doctor and Roxy looked back. There, in between the curtains on the stage, stood the angel, its arm covering its eyes.

"Yeah," the Doctor sighed. "I knew that door wouldn't hold it."

"So what do we do?" Roxy asked, staring at the creature.

"We keep looking at it," said the Doctor. "Until I figure out what do with it."

"Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Cutter asked, nervously staring at the stone angel. "Who is this man?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?" the Doctor asked, shaking Cutter's hand.

"Lionel Thomas," Cutter replied, slightly dazed.

"It's nice to meet you, Lionel. Now, don't take your eyes off that angel. I'm going to see what you lovely actors have around that might be useful in getting rid of it."

"I thought you said you've seen one of these before," Roxy said. "How did you get rid of it last time?"

"Last time, there were four of them," the Doctor replied. "And I was luckily able to trick them into looking at each other thanks to a very lovely girl who was much more cooperative than you are being at the moment."

Cutter inched closer to Roxy. "I don't understand," he said. "Why can't we look away? It's just a statue."

"It's not," Roxy replied before the Doctor could. "It's an alien. If it touches you, you'll be sent back in time and they'll consume your potential time energy. It's technically the equivalent of death. They can't move while they're being looked that, though. Some people call them the Lonely Assassins."

The Doctor, who had been busy looking around the pile of tools that the theater group left stashed in a corner, paused to look back at Roxy. "How did you know that?"

"You told me," Roxy replied.

"Not in so much detail," the Doctor said. He went to her, making her look away from the angel. "Lionel, keep looking at it." He looked into Roxy's eyes. "How do you know all of this stuff? Who taught you?"

"A Time Lord." Roxy replied, almost automatically.

The Doctor almost thought he'd heard wrong. But no, he was certain he heard her say that. "What?"

Roxy looked away. "I'm sorry, I…" she paused. "I say very strange things when I'm under pressure."

"She really does," Cutter said, smiling in spite of the circumstances. "She's incredibly smart, though. She knows the answer to everything. It's kind of amazing."

Roxy blushed a little when he said this.

The Doctor looked into her eyes again, an almost unbelievable and impossible suspicion arising in him. "Roxy, where were you born?"

"What kind of a question is that?" Roxy asked, completely bewildered. "There's an alien in my theater and you want to know where I'm from?"

"It's just a question, Roxy." The Doctor said.

"I was born in Denver, Colorado." Roxy replied.

"How big is it?" The Doctor asked.

"Fifty-four square miles," Roxy said without hesitation.

"What's the population?"

"Six-hundred thousand, one-hundred and fifty-eight as of two-thousand and ten."

"See? I keep telling her to go on one of those shows. She'd get rich immediately." Cutter said, his eyes still glued to the angel.

"How long did you live there?" The Doctor asked, ignoring Cutter.

At this question, Roxy paused to consider. "I moved here when I was nine years old."

"What was the color of your house in Denver?" The Doctor continued.

Roxy's expression went blank. Not only was the question unexpected, but she had no idea how to answer it.

"Who was your best friend growing up? Who taught you to ride a bike? What was the name of your first teacher? Where did you go to school?"

The questions came, one after the other, each leaving Roxy more lost and confused than before.

"That's intense," Cutter said, impressed.

"What is?" Roxy asked, her head still spinning.

"You can answer anything technical about the city where you were supposedly born," said the Doctor. "But you can't answer any personal questions." He paused. "Tell me, do you remember anything from before your tenth birthday?"

"Of course I do," Roxy said quickly. "I remember…" she paused, a horrible realization dawning on her. She had never, ever paused to think of her childhood. She had no memories whatsoever from before supposedly moving to her new home.

"Wait," Roxy said suddenly. "There is…I mean, well, it's not really a memory; it's more of a dream I used to have." She paused. "It's kind of stupid, though."

"What was it?" the Doctor prompted.

"I'm…in a field," Roxy tried to remember, but it was proving harder than she thought. "But the grass is…red. It's nighttime, but the sky is orange, and there's more than one sun." She realized that the Doctor was giving her a very strange look. "It's just a dream, though," she said quickly. "It really doesn't mean anything." She looked back at the Doctor. "Is it…normal for people not to remember their childhood?"

The Doctor couldn't reply. His mind was racing at five-hundred times the speed that it usually raced. What this girl, this human, was describing was…something no human in this time had ever seen. The only explanation that came to his head, the only possible reason for the events occurring, was—

"Sorry to interrupt your tea party over there," Cutter suddenly said. "But did that thing just get closer?"

Roxy and the Doctor looked back at the Angel. Cutter must've blinked, because the Angel's arm was no longer covering its eyes. In fact, its eyes were open and looking straight at Cutter.

"Okay," the Doctor said. "I think I might have a plan, but I'll need time to work on it. Is there anywhere we can go that's secure enough to keep the Angel out for about half an hour?"

"The dressing rooms might work." Roxy replied. "They lock automatically from the outside, and we can stop the door with the dressing tables. It might work for a little while."

"But the nearest dressing room is on the other side of the stage," Cutter said. "We can't go there and still keep our eyes on this thing."

"No," said the Doctor. "In that case, we might as well go back to the TARDIS."

"The what?" Cutter said.

"Time And Relative Dimension In Space," Roxy said before putting her hand over her mouth. "What the hell am I saying?"

The Doctor tried to ignore this as best he could. He grabbed some of the tools in the corner, as well as a couple of paint brushed and a jug of iced tea out of the fridge in the corner. "Now then," he said. "Both of you back up slowly towards the lights closet. I'll try to steer you as best I can. Allons-y!"

The three of them made their way slowly towards the closet, though why on Earth they would want to go there was beyond Roxy and Cutter. Finally, they got to the point where if they kept moving back, they would lose sight of the Angel.

"Now," said the Doctor. "There is a blue box in that closet that the two of you will have to run to when I count to three. Run as fast as you can."

"What if the angel catches us?" Cutter asked.

"Then I am sorry," the Doctor said. "I am very, very sorry, but there is nothing I can do to save you. Are you ready?"

Roxy took a deep breath. Without taking her eyes off the Angel, she grabbed hold of Cutter's hand. They both nodded.

"One, two, three!"

The three of them ran as quickly as their legs would carry them. Once inside the closet, Cutter closed the door.

"Will this hold it?" He asked, very nervous.

"I'm not entirely sure," said the Doctor. "So why don't you come in here instead?"

Cutter and Roxy looked at the blue box which the Doctor had been referring to. It looked like some sort of phone box, but the top said "Police Public Call Box" on it. The Doctor was standing at the doorway.

"How do you expect us to fit in there?" Cutter asked.

"No, how do you expect that to keep us safe?" Roxy remarked.

"Just get in, and quit asking stupid questions."

The two of them clambered in, still walking backwards, making sure that there wasn't anything that needed to be stared at. Roxy was the last inside, and she closed the door.

"This door is made of wood," Roxy said, annoyed. "There is no way this will protect us."

"I think we have way bigger fish to fry." Cutter said, staring into the inside of the phone box.

Roxy turned around, and her voice left her. The box they had just climbed into was not a box at all. It was a giant…thing. There were lights and controls, and weird, indescribable things surrounding her. After a few seconds, she realized her mouth was open.

"Yes, yes, it's bigger on the inside," the Doctor said. "Don't worry. Nothing can get through that door unless I want it to. Now then," he clapped his hands together, startling the pair that stood in the doorway. "I have an angel to get rid of. Why don't the two of you…get comfortable?"


	5. The Time Lady

**A bit of a dull chapter, but it does reveal quite a bit. **

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"What is this place?" Cutter was finally able to ask.

"It's the TARDIS," replied the Doctor. "A spaceship, if you will. I travel around in it. Feel free to look around, but don't touch anything."

Cutter took this as an invitation and started exploring the entire contents of the strange box. It wasn't long before he was out of sight, wandering around the halls.

Roxy was still unable to get her head in place. She had never seen this ship, this…TARDIS, in her life. She had never heard the acronym until today. So why did she feel like she knew it?

"You're a time traveler." Roxy said.

The Doctor noted that this hadn't been said in the form of a question. He stopped what he was working on. "I am."

"You're an alien."

"Yes."

Roxy walked towards him. The Doctor was standing over the controls, working on what looked to be some sort of wrist-watch.

"What's your name?"

"The Doctor."

Roxy's eyes narrowed. "That's not a name, that's a title. Now, if you don't mind, my friend and I are putting our lives into your hands. We have the right to know who's saving us."

The Doctor looked up from his work. Roxy stood with her arms crossed, and a stern expression on her face. The Doctor pulled out his glasses and put them on.

"I have a theory, Roxanne," he said, purposefully leaving the subject of his name.

"Don't call me Roxanne," Roxy replied. "What's the theory?"

The Doctor went back to working on his project. "You said the Weeping Angel arrived around the same time that you did?"

"Yeah, it was donated the year I joined the club," Roxy replied.

"Do you know who donated it?"

"No," said Roxy. "I never asked. Why? Is that important?"

The Doctor paused for quite a long time before responding. "You say you're from Denver, but you have no memories of your childhood except for a dream where the grass is red and the sky is orange." The Doctor tried to keep the longing he felt out of his voice as he described the aspects of his home.

"I thought we were talking about the Angel," Roxy said.

"Do you have a watch?" the Doctor asked.

"It was around four the last time I checked." Roxy replied dismissively.

"No, I'm not asking for the time," said the Doctor. "I'm asking if you have a watch. It would be small, old-fashioned for your time. The kind men would put on a chain back in the nineteenth century, except this one would have strange-looking circles on the surface."

Roxy's hand hovered over her pocket. "W-why is my watch important?"

"Because that watch might just tell me who and what you are," the Doctor replied.

Roxy pulled the watch out of her pocket, her fingers trembling slightly. "But it's just an old watch. I don't even know where I got it from."

"But you've had it all your life, right?" The Doctor asked. "Or at least since you were nine?"

Roxy nodded, at a loss for words. She handed the watch to the Doctor, and he took it with great care. It took him a second to realize that his fingers were shaking as well. His senses told him that it wasn't true, that it couldn't be true. There were no more Time Lords, only him. He was the last one.

But this watch was all the proof he needed. It made no sense in his mind how one of his own kind could end up here, and one so young. But it was true. It had to be. No other explanation made sense.

"Roxy," the Doctor said. "Do you know those stories you sometimes hear where an ordinary girl turns out to have special powers, or she turns out to be something special, or important?"

Roxy nodded, not exactly following.

"Well, there's a part of me that's hoping that this isn't one of those stories." The Doctor said. "But there's another part that hopes it is."

"What the hell are you trying to say?" Roxy asked.

The Doctor pressed the watch into Roxy's hand. "Listen carefully. This is the part of the story where that girl makes a choice. This watch contains your existence, your memories, everything you were before you became Roxanne Baker. If you open it, you'll get it all back, but your life will be changed forever, and you'll never be able to return to what you were before."

"T-that's imposs—" Roxy tried to speak, but the Doctor cut her off.

"It should be, I know. But you can't tell me that deep in your mind, you don't think it's true." The Doctor squeezed Roxy's hand around the watch. "Roxy, you're not who you think you are."

"How can you say that?" Roxy said, pulling her hand away violently. Her voice shook, and there were tears in her eyes. "I know exactly who I am! My name is Roxanne Baker, I'm sixteen, and I was born in Denver. My father died of alcoholism when I was twelve. I—" Tears started to flow down her cheeks. "I have a mother who works three jobs, and three older sisters. I'm going to be an actress someday. I—" She couldn't speak anymore. Her entire body convulsed, although she knew that it was ridiculous to be crying over something so pathetic.

When the Doctor tried to comfort her, Roxy pushed him away, growing angry.

"Who the hell are you anyway?" She said, backing away. "I've never seen you before in my life, and you think you can just come in here and tell me what I am? Who are you?"

"I'm a Time Lord," the Doctor said. "The last of the Time Lords, unless it turns out that I'm not, in which case I'll be one of the last Time Lords. That dream of yours, with the red grass and the orange sky, that place is real. Or, rather, _was _real. It's where Time Lords came from, a place called Gallifrey. But that's not a dream, Roxy, it's a memory. If my theory is correct, then you're a Time Lord as well. That Angel out there knew it the moment it saw you. It's been here as long as you have because it thinks a TARDIS will appear, which would feed it for a very long time, but it would also create a lot of problems that neither of us need. I don't know why else an Angel would wait as long as it did in that form."

Roxy shook her head, as if refusing to listen to what the Doctor was saying. She leaned against the railing, trying to contain her tears. The Doctor was silent for few seconds.

"I know it's hard, Roxy," the Doctor said, softly. "You don't have to change, if you don't want to. Maybe there's more for you here than there would be as a Time Lord."

Despite these words, Roxy was fully aware of the fact that the Doctor wanted more than anything for her to change back into whatever he thought she was.

"Shouldn't you be more careful, Doctor?" She said, suddenly. "What if I turn out to be some old enemy of yours? That's happened to you before, hasn't it?"

The Doctor's eyes narrowed, but he decided to pursue how she knew this at a later date.

"The Master," said the Doctor. "He tried to take over the Earth. Nearly succeeded."

"But he's dead now." Roxy said.

The Doctor's expression was unreadable. "I didn't kill him."

Roxy looked away, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. "But who's to say I won't end up the same way? What if I come back and want to kill you?"

"Then that's the risk we'll have to take," the Doctor said.

Roxy looked back down at the watch in her hand. If she opened it, she would know who she was. Did that mean that she'd forget the life she led now? What about her family and friends? Would they forget her? Would she forget them?

"Should've seen it coming," Roxy said, almost to herself. "You know my entire family is blonde and blue-eyed? But not me. I'm the tallest one, too. But I never let my sisters convince me that I was adopted." She looked back at the Doctor. "So how does it happen, anyway? How does a Time Lord change herself into a human?"

"You'd be called a Time Lady," the Doctor replied. "You use a Chameleon Arch. It rewrites every cell in your body to create a new being. Yours was obviously set to human. It's an extremely painful process, much more than a nine-year-old should be able to bear."

"Well, maybe I wasn't nine years old when it happened," Roxy said with a shrug. She looked at the watch in her hand. "I guess I'll never know unless I open this." She looked at the Doctor. "What'll happen to my family if I…well, when I—"

"The Chameleon Arch incorporates you into the lives of other people. It creates a persona with false memories for everyone to believe." The Doctor said. "They'll certainly remember you when you change, but the question is how they'll remember you."

"That's comforting." Roxy muttered. She looked at the watch in her hand, thoughts pounding through her head. The decision was harder than she thought it would be. If she kept the watch closed, she could dismiss this as another event in her life that she would walk away from (in theory, assuming they got out alive and weren't sent back in time by a hungry stone angel). She would go on in high school, go to college, get a job, and live like any other human being. She'd remain friends with Cutter until life inevitably separated them, and then what? Another thought came to her. Could she just leave Cutter like that? Even though she never admitted it to anyone, much less herself, she loved him. They had been best friends for a long time, and even though he was kind of a moron, he knew her better than anyone. If she stayed, maybe she'd have a chance with him. Maybe he'd realize that he felt the same way for her.

But if she opened the watch, if she changed back into her "original" self, what would happen? What was the purpose of a Time Lord anyway? The Doctor had told her that he was the last of the Time Lords, unless it turned out that she was one as well. Could she stand being the last of her kind? Could she be that lonely? But, of course, the Doctor would be there. But she hardly knew who he was. He'd just popped in all of a sudden, spurting theories and telling her who she was. Why the hell had she trusted this skinny idiot?

"This place is amazing!" Cutter said, running in. "There's about a million rooms in here. Roxy, you have to check it out. How did you get all these rooms to fit into such a small box? And you travel in this thing? What's up with you two?"

Roxy blinked, having been lost in her own thoughts. "Nothing," she put the watch back in her pocket. "We were just talking about, well, never mind." She turned away from both of them, still leaning against the railing.

Cutter looked at the Doctor, who was back at working on whatever device he was sure could stop the Angel.

"So you really are an alien, aren't you?" Cutter said, studying the different controls.

The Doctor nodded. "You don't seem at all concerned by it, though. Seen an alien before, have you?"

"Oh, no," Cutter replied. "Not in real life. America doesn't get nearly as many invasions as Britain does. It's a bit unfair, but at least we got Roswell, although I'm starting to think that that's just a conspiracy. The Titanic almost crashing into Buckingham Palace was my favorite. There's so much more out there than anyone cares to think about." He looked at the Doctor. "Is it nice out there?"

"Oh, it's brilliant," the Doctor replied. "A great, big, huge mass of wonder, the universe is, filled with things you could never imagine. Never see the same thing twice. Well, you do, but it's never the same, not really. Have a fancy for a trip?"

Cutter's eyes widened. "Are you serious? You'd really take me out there?"

"Sure!" the Doctor said with a wide smile. "Soon as I get that Angel out of here. How 'bout it Roxy? Want to see the universe?"

Roxy didn't reply. Cutter looked at her, concern surfacing on his features. He walked over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. The Doctor watched quietly as Cutter wrapped his arms around Roxy, holding her gently. They stayed like that for a few minutes, just holding each other. It led the Doctor to wonder if human hugs normally lasted that long these days. He went back to work, and when he glanced over at them, they were talking softly to one another. He gathered that the two of them were quite close.

After a while, Cutter went back towards the Doctor.

"So," he said casually. "What exactly are you making?"

"A teleport device," the Doctor replied. "When I'm finished with it, I'll strap it on the Angel, feed it coordinates, and send it away. It won't stop it, but it'll keep it far away for a long time."

"You know how to build teleports?" Cutter asked, looking at the Doctor's work in amazement.

The Doctor would've replied, but all of a sudden there was a great crash that shook the entire TARDIS.

* * *

**Decisions, decisions**


	6. The First Trip

**Yes! Another chapter! **

* * *

"What was that?" Cutter said, alarm lacing his voice.

"The Angel's trying to get in." The Doctor said, working faster. "I need to finish this quickly, but there's no telling if it'll work properly." He took out his sonic screwdriver, working faster than he was before. There was another crash, and the TARDIS shook again.

"Can it get in?" Roxy asked, gripping the railing tightly.

"No," said the Doctor. "This TARDIS is impenetrable. But it will try. It will most certainly try."

"Then hurry up with that teleport!" Roxy said as the TARDIS crashed once again.

"I'm working as fast as I can!" the Doctor yelled back.

"Wait a second," Cutter said. "If we can't touch the Angel, how are we supposed to put the teleport on it?"

Roxy and Cutter looked at the Doctor expectantly, who now wore a ridiculously mystified look on his face.

"You didn't think of that, did you?" Roxy said.

"Hey," the Doctor said, growing impatient. "At least I'm working on a solution. You, on the other hand, are being completely uncooperative."

"What am I supposed to do?" Roxy inquired. "I'm just a human. You're the one who's claiming to be the lord of time, or whatever."

"I am the lord of time!" the Doctor exclaimed. "And you are choosing to be a worthless human instead of being any of help whatsoever."

"You know what? I like being a worthless human!" Roxy replied. "At least it's better than being a cranky, impatient alien who's afraid of a statue!"

Cutter watched this exchange like a tennis match, looking from one to the other and back again. He didn't entirely comprehend what the argument was about, but he guessed that a lot had been said while he had been exploring the TARDIS. They kept arguing even as the entire room shook.

"Hey," Cutter tried to get them to stop, but they just kept on going. "Hey! Seeing as our lives are in danger, I don't think this is the best time to be arguing!"

The Doctor and Roxy looked at Cutter, one surprised, the other embarrassed. Roxy looked away, and the Doctor cleared his throat.

"You're right, sorry about that," he went back to his teleport. "There shouldn't be any danger of being sent back in time if the Angel is in the form of a stone. All we have to do is be quick about it." He snapped a final piece into place. "There we go! Now then, who wants to volunteer?"

"What if it can send us back in time as a stone, Doctor?" Roxy asked.

"Then I'll find you," the Doctor said. "I promise you, no matter what, if anything happens I'll track you down and bring you back."

"But we could anywhere!" Roxy exclaimed. "What if—"

"Let me do it." Cutter cut in.

Roxy looked at Cutter. "What?" she said. "Cutter, you can't."

"Why not?" Cutter asked. "I'll be fine. Like the Doctor said, the Angel may not be able to send people back in time as a stone. It'll be okay as long as I don't blink. And if I do get sent back, well, how can I say no to a trip to the past?"

The Doctor smiled. "Lionel Thomas, you are brilliant."

A few seconds later, Cutter stood in front of the TARDIS doors, the teleport device in his hand. Roxy and the Doctor stood behind him.

"Now then," the Doctor said. "It's probably out there waiting for us to open the door, so make sure your eyes are wide open when you open it. The coordinates are already in the teleport, so all you have to do is strap it on its wrist, press the button, and let go as fast as you can. If you don't let go on time, it could take you with it. Understand?"

"Don't blink, strap the thing, press the button, let go," Cutter summarized. He gripped the door handle, taking a deep breath. He opened the door, his eyes wide open, and looked out. Sure enough, there stood the Angel, its eyes and mouth wide open and it hands like claws. Cutter, Roxy, and the Doctor stared at it intently, as if daring it to move. The Angel stared back, a harmless slab of stone with a face.

Cutter inched closer to it, holding the teleport with both hands. When he was close enough, he reached up towards the Angel's outstretched hand and strapped the teleport on its wrist. Roxy waited for him to disappear, but nothing happened. All of them breathed a sigh of relief. Cutter reached up, his eyed on the Angel's face, and pressed the button on the teleport.

What happened in those next few seconds, none of them can exactly describe.

The Angel was fading away, but something strange happened. It seemed as if they had all blinked at the exact same moment, because in the last microsecond before it disappeared, the Angel's hand shot forward and grabbed on to Cutter's wrist. Time slowed down. Cutter cried out in slow motion, and before anyone could even think of not blinking, Cutter and the Angel were gone.

Roxy stared at the empty spot where Cutter had been just a second before. She stepped shakily out of the TARDIS, using the door for support. She reached forward, her hand quavering, but all she felt was the air.

She turned back to the Doctor, who looked almost as shocked. "Where did it send him?" She asked. Even her voice shook.

"I don't—" the Doctor tried to say, but Roxy stepped forward. "Don't act stupid, Doctor. You promised me that if this happened, you would find him. You promised."

The Doctor looked at her seriously. "Get back into the TARDIS."

Roxy took a shaky breath. She followed the Doctor into the TARDIS, closing the door behind her. "Please tell me you at least have a method of some sort."

The Doctor was already at the controls, pushing buttons and pulling levers. "It's quite simple, really. First we take a bit of his DNA," he held up a nut-brown strand of hair. "Then we give it to the TARDIS to analyze," he dropped the hair into some sort of slot within the controls. The screen came to life. "The TARDIS matches the DNA to the place and point in time," the screen suddenly beeped. "And voila! Earth, New York City, 1939. Hold on!" The TARDIS engines began to roar. The entire place shook, and Roxy had to hold on to the railing for dear life. She felt her stomach rise to her throat.

"Are you sure you know how to fly this thing?" she yelled out to the Doctor.

"Of course I do!" the Doctor replied, insulted. "I've been flying this TARDIS almost all my life!"

The TARDIS finally stopped with what sounded like a sort of bang. The Doctor ran past Roxy and opened the door. "There we are!" he said. "Manhattan, 1939. Look, there just about finished with Rockefeller Center. Oh, hold on a second." He ran back into the TARDIS and pulled out a trench coat, much like his own. "You'll be needing this."

Roxy stepped out of the TARDIS, putting on the coat, and looked around. They had landed right in front of the ice-skating rink at Rockefeller Center. Looking up, she could see that some of the buildings that were there in the twenty-first century were just barely being completed now. It was cold, and it looked as if there would be snow falling fairly soon.

"I was here about four months ago," Roxy said. "My sister and I went to the top of the observation deck, but there was too much smog in the air to really see anything." She looked at the Doctor. "It feels weird," she said. "I know time travel should be absolutely impossible, but it feels so…real."

"It is real," the Doctor replied. "And it's part of you. Do you remember any of it?"

Roxy shook her head. "I can't remember a thing." She looked around. "So, if this is where the Angel sent Cutter, then where is he?"

The Doctor looked around as well. "That is an excellent question."

"Doctor," Roxy said seriously. "If it turns out he's dead, I swear I will—"

"He is not dead, Roxanne," the Doctor said, beginning to walk around. "The TARDIS picked up a living signal. He's around here somewhere. All we have to do is find him."

"In New York City?" Roxy walked quickly to keep up with the Doctor. "Do you realize how huge this place is? Even in 1939 it could take weeks to search the entire city."

"You have no sense of adventure," the Doctor said, turning a corner. Roxy struggled to keep up with him. Even in 1939, the streets of Manhattan were crowded with hundreds of pedestrians, all clad in long coats and scarves, and all of them wearing some sort of hat. It got colder as they walked on, and Roxy suddenly longed to be back in the summer heat.

"I have a sense of adventure," Roxy said. She could see her breath come out in puffs as she spoke. "I just have common sense and practicality as well, and I don't like these circumstances. Watching your best friend being sent back in time isn't necessarily the most comforting of sights."

"Right, sorry," the Doctor said. They kept walking at a fast pace, almost running when they had the chance. The Doctor looked down alleys, into buildings, calling Cutter's name. Roxy endured the strange looks they were getting from the people they passed. _Suck it up, _she told herself. _You do stupid shit in public all the time. _

They kept at it for almost an hour. Roxy could feel herself growing wearier, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. She called Cutter's name at the top of her lungs, though she knew it was close to futile.

Just as she was getting ready to give up, though, she heard something. It was faint, but she definitely heard it.

"Stop!" she told the Doctor. They both stopped to listen. Roxy strained her ears, and there it was again. They ran towards the sound as fast as they could, and as they got closer, the cries grew louder. Someone was screaming, and it sounded like they were in pain.

"Cutter!" Roxy yelled as they got closer. "Cutter, is that you?"

The Doctor, who was in front of Roxy, turned into an alley, and stopped. Roxy followed him, and saw why he was stopping. There, at the end of the alley, was Cutter. He was sitting on the ground, holding someone. The cries they had heard were coming from the person that Cutter was holding. Cutter looked like he was trying to comfort the crying person. He looked over at the Doctor and Roxy, and there was sheer surprise on his otherwise worried face.

"Doctor, he's hurt!" Cutter said. The Doctor ran forward, crouching in front of the screaming boy. When Roxy got closer, she saw that the boy could've been no more than twelve years of age. There were no injuries that she could see, but still the boy struggled and cried. The Doctor pulled out his sonic screw driver and began to inspect the boy. "Lay him out on the ground," he instructed. "Gently. Then step away, both of you."

Cutter did as he was told, then he and Roxy stepped away. They watched the Doctor work quietly for a few seconds.

"I'm glad to see you," Cutter said after a little while. "I was beginning to think you'd never show up."

"Oh don't be a child," Roxy said, though she, too, was glad to see him again. "It's only been an hour."

Cutter looked at her. "Roxy, it's been almost a month."

"What?" Roxy looked at Cutter closely for the first time. She suddenly realized that he wasn't wearing the same clothes he had been wearing earlier that day (or later than century, she supposed). The t-shirt and shorts he had been wearing were replaced by an ill-fitting button-down, brown pants, a black coat that was too big, and a floppy brown hat. His nut-brown hair was certainly shaggier, and he had stubble on his chin.

"After the Angel touched me, I woke up here. I waited for you guys to show up, but after a while it became apparent that I'd need to find a place to bed down. I didn't have that much money, but met a group of homeless kids who helped me out." He looked back at the kid who was still crying and struggling as the Doctor examined him. "Timmy and I were just out scouting when suddenly this happened."

"So you know this kid?" Roxy asked.

Cutter nodded solemnly.

"But a month!" Roxy could hardly believe it. She had just seen Cutter no more than an hour ago. In that hour he had changed from a care-free, happy drama student into a serious, authoritative adult. How could something like that happen so quickly? "Doctor, you brought us a month late!"

"Yes, I am aware of that, Roxanne," the Doctor said, preoccupied. "But at the moment, this is far more important." He removed the coat that the child was wearing. "Lionel, did you touch his skin?"

"No, I don't think so," Lionel responded. He no longer held the excitement and awe that he'd once had in the Doctor's presence.

"What's wrong with him, Doctor?" Roxy asked. "Is he sick?"

"Terribly," the Doctor said. "Come look at this." Roxy and Cutter stepped forward and looked at what the doctor was referring to. Something strange was happening to the Timmy's skin. It was turning grey, but very, very quickly. They watched as it traveled from his neck up to his face and down his hands. Before long, Timmy resembled a corpse more than a boy. He had even stopped screaming.

The Doctor stood up, and placed himself in front of Roxy and Cutter. "It's a virus," he said, forcing them to back up. "But not just any virus. An alien is taking over his body. I've seen this sort of thing, but never on Earth. If you let a single bit of skin touch you, you'll be infected immediately."

"Will it kill him?" Roxy asked.

Timmy's eyes suddenly snapped open. The boy sat up, and looked straight at them. His eyes, though, were completely white.

"Well, in a sense, yes," the Doctor said. "But in another sense, it'll just turn him into a brainless, mindless creature that'll stop at nothing until the entire human race is just like him."

"Oh," Roxy said. "Cheery."

* * *

**Silly people, thinking that all their troubles would be over if they got rid of the Angel. They don't know the half of it :D**


	7. The Trustworthy

**Finally, I've finished another chapter! I apologize for not having updated in the past to weeks, but my laptop started to malfunction while I was out of the country and I haven't been able to get it to work until now. But, all that aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

"Wait," Cutter said. "It's 1939. How can there have been a zombie outbreak in 1939 without it being in history books. Wouldn't we hear about something like that?"

"Time can be rewritten," the Doctor said. "And what makes you think he's a zombie?"

"Well, look at him!" Cutter said. Timmy, or what used to be Timmy, was on his feet now, walking slowly, almost like a new-born child. His mouth hung open, and his arms were reaching out towards them.

"Does this disease have a cure?" Roxy asked, beginning to back away.

"Of course it does," the Doctor said. "It's getting it that's the issue."

"Well, does anyone have a shot-gun?" Roxy asked.

"In 1939?" Cutter said questioningly.

"What, you think they're only around in the twenty-first century?" Roxy rolled her eyes. "You really need to look into a textbook every once in a while."

"No," the Doctor said. "No guns, no violence. We're going to find the cure to this disease and put a stop to it. Lionel, do you know where Timmy could've gotten it from?"

"It could've been anywhere!" Cutter said. "We practically live on the streets. There's no telling how many things he came in contact with today."

"Where were you living?" the Doctor asked. "We can start there."

"A few blocks away," Cutter replied. "There's an old abandoned theater. It went out of business because of the depression. It's a nice place, though, and it's dry."

"Good, we'll go there," said the Doctor. "We need to make Timmy follow us. When we get to the theater, we'll find a place to put him where he'll be safe and won't be able to touch anyone. You're sure you haven't seen anything weird today?"

"Nothing apart from this," Cutter said. "How long does it usually take for symptoms to show?"

"It can happen as quickly as ten minutes and as slowly as twelve hours," the Doctor replied. "Now, let's get this boy out of here."

"Doctor, we're in the middle of New York City," Roxy said. "There're thousands of people here. How can we keep him from touching anyone? What if it sees people and starts following them?"

"There's a back way," Cutter said, he went around the now zombie-fied Timmy and pulled back a curtain that neither the Doctor nor Roxy had noticed. "It's a bit of a maze, but I'm pretty sure I remember the way."

"Fine," the Doctor said. He and Roxy followed Cutter, and the once-was Timmy followed, slowly. The Doctor assured them that those infected with the virus had slow reflexes, but Roxy still kept her eye on the creature at all times.

Today had just been too weird. The Doctor, the Angel, losing Cutter, and now this? She knew, of course, that most people in this situation would have far more excitement, or at least a more elevated sense of adventure. She just felt vexed. Everything she'd once known about herself, about the world and how it worked, everything was a complete lie. She didn't know if she was annoyed at that exactly, or at the fact that she hadn't figured it out sooner. But again, she wouldn't have cared before about time-traveling, aliens, or anything else that this "doctor" might come up with in the near future. She was a very logical being. In theory, any of what had happened to her today could be easily disproved. But this wasn't theory, this was real life, and that was seriously starting to piss her off.

They didn't meet a lot of people at all. Cutter took them through back roads and alleys, eventually ending up in front of a small wooden door. He knocked a strange pattern, and they waited. Timmy was getting closer and closer. He was making strange noises, like the type a zombie would make, which really did not sit well with Roxy.

"Should we get something to defend ourselves with?" Roxy asked.

"We can't hurt him," the Doctor said. "There's a chance that the real Timmy is still alive somewhere in there, and I intend to help him."

Timmy was getting closer, and the door still hadn't opened.

"Sure could use a long stick right now," Roxy muttered to herself. "Why isn't the door opening?"

Cutter knocked again. He pressed his ear to the door, but he couldn't hear anything. He tried to door knob. It was locked.

"That makes no sense," Cutter said. "We have someone here at all times, just in case."

Suddenly, they heard a scream. Then more screams, from multiple people, all coming from inside. The Doctor pushed Cutter aside and unlocked the door with his sonic screw driver. He pushed the door open and rushed in.

They were in the backstage area of an old-fashioned music hall. Even now it looked dusty and old. The screaming was coming from the stage, and as they ran, people started to emerge, all running in different directions. There, on the stage, lay a little girl, hardly eight years old. Her hair was long and unkempt, and her dress was old and patched-up, but that wasn't what concerned the Doctor. Her eyes were open, and they were white, and her skin was a sickening shade of gray.

"Nobody touch her!" the Doctor yelled at the other kids. The little girl started to stand awkwardly, like Timmy had. "We need to get both of them into a safe room where they can't get out and can't touch anybody, at least until I can find a cure. Is there anything like that in here, Lionel?"

"Downstairs," Cutter said. "There're some rooms, I think they're supposed to be dressing rooms, but they're very old. I think a few of them still have working doors."

"Okay, do we still have Timmy with us?" the Doctor asked.

"Yup, but he is getting ever so close, Doctor," Roxy said.

"Lead the way, Lionel," the Doctor said.

"Zombies! This way!" Cutter yelled.

"They're not zombies!" the Doctor yelled back.

"Then what are they?" Cutter asked.

"They're…" the Doctor searched for the right word, but couldn't find it. "Look, this disease is so rare that it doesn't even have a proper name."

"Zombieism," Roxy said. "There, you've got a name for it."

"That sounds like a religion," Cutter remarked.

"We can agree on a name later when we're not being chased by brainless aliens," Roxy said. "But right now, I say we get this over with."

Coaxing the alien/zombie/things down the stairs proved to be a lot harder than they imagined, but it was eventually accomplished. They found a room with no windows and a thick door. When the two creatures were finally inside, they closed and locked the door.

"Okay," the Doctor said to everyone in the theater, about a dozen kids and teenagers. "No one is to open those doors, and avoid going downstairs as much as possible."

"Cutter," one of the teenagers, a boy of about seventeen, spoke up. "What's going on? You're not supposed to bring anyone here. Who is this guy?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor said pleasantly.

"And why should we listen to you?" the boy said.

"Are you going to make us leave?" a younger boy with red hair asked.

"No," the Doctor said.

"Will Timmy and Lilly be okay?" a young girl asked.

"I'm going to try to cure them," the Doctor said. "All of you listen to me. I'm not here to kick you out, or to send you away, or to tell you what to do. I'm here to help and protect you. What happened to Timmy and Lilly can happen to any one of you if you're not careful. Now, has anyone seen anything strange lately?"

"Strange how?" the older boy asked.

"Things falling from the sky, strange people," the Doctor said. "Anything that you wouldn't normally see in New York City."

The kids thought for a little while. Suddenly, the red-headed boy gasped.

"The roof!" He exclaimed. Everyone looked at him questioningly. "That's where Timmy keeps all his treasures. Well, he calls them treasures, but I think it's all just junk. Anyway, last night Timmy came back with something he'd found. He didn't tell me what it was, and he wouldn't show it to me, but it's probably up there somewhere. He said it was his greatest treasure of all."

"Okay," the Doctor said. "Have any of you come in contact with Timmy or Lilly since last night?"

Everyone looked around at each other, unsure. Some of the younger kids wondered if this was some sort of test, like they used to have in school. The older kids were more wary. They didn't really trust this doctor-man. None of them were huge fans of doctors to begin with, with their needles and tablets and yucky medicines. But something was wrong with Timmy and Lilly, and what they had learned from living without parents was that everyone needed to be cared for, even if they had white eyes and gray skin.

"Did anyone touch Lilly while she was changing?" Cutter asked.

"I don't think so," the older boy said. "I saw it all. The moment she started screaming, I told everyone to stay away."

"Who might you be?" the Doctor asked.

"Matthew," the boy replied.

"Well Matthew, that was the right thing to do," the Doctor said. "Now, this is going to be a bit hard, but there's no telling who might have the virus right now. So, until I can figure out a cure for this, all of you must have as minimal physical contact with anyone else as much as possible. The only way to transfer the disease is by touching, so for now, pretend that you are surrounded by a giant bubble that no one can pass. Can you do that?"

The kids nodded, and some of them began to make sure that there was a good amount of space between them and the next person.

"Roxy," the Doctor said. "I'm going to have to do some research, but I don't want to leave unless there's another breakout, so," he pulled out a key from his pocket and handed it to her. "I need you to bring the TARDIS here."

"You want me to fly the TARDIS?" Roxy said, shocked. "How the hell am I going to do that?"

"Listen to me," the Doctor said. "The TARDIS is psychic; it does what you need it to do. I think there's enough Time Lord left inside of you to make her fly, you just have to be sure of yourself. Can you do that?"

Roxy took the key. "I can't guarantee anything. But I can try."

She ran back to where they had parked the TARDIS, in front of Rockefeller Center. It was almost dusk when she got there. The box stood there, in front of the ice rink, as if it belonged there. People walked past it without even glancing at it. She pushed the key into the lock and opened the door.

Inside the TARDIS, it was quiet. It wasn't the quiet that comes from a machine that's turned been turned off. It was more like the quiet that comes from a great, sleeping beast. It felt alive, and so full of power. As Roxy paced around the controls, trying to figure out where to start, she realized how wrong she was about the Doctor. All this time she thought he was just some lonely traveler that went around creating trouble. But he wasn't alone, was he? The TARDIS was always with him.

For the first time since the Doctor crashed into her that morning, she felt at ease.

"Alright girl," she heard herself say. "Let's see what you can do."

Without really thinking about it, she pressed a few buttons and pulled a lever, and the TARDIS suddenly came to life. Roxy heard herself laugh for the first time that day. She typed in the location, and felt the machine begin to move.

"This is just too cool!" Roxy exclaimed.

The TARDIS landed, and Roxy ran to the door to see where she had landed. She swung the door open and stepped out. She had landed back on the stage of the music hall, but something had changed. It was a lot darker than it had been, and very, very quiet. She looked around, but saw no one around. Had she, perhaps, gotten the wrong time?

Suddenly, she heard something. Someone was coming towards her, she could hear it. She started to see the outline of a person, moving slowly towards her. She wondered briefly if it could be one of the zombie-things, and began to look for something to defend herself with.

"Roxy?" the figure suddenly said. Roxy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Cutter," she said. "Why is it so quiet?"

"You've been gone for a while," Cutter replied. "Everyone's gone to sleep. Except the Doctor. He's—"

"Right here," the Doctor said, emerging from the darkness. "Very good, Roxy. You only got here three hours late." He smiled at the TARDIS. "I think she likes you." He looked back at them. "Now then, this is where I give you guys a choice. I want to know if you guys are okay with staying here, or if you want me to take you home. I always give my companions a choice. If you two feel unsafe in any way, or if you're uncomfortable being so far from home, then just say so and I'll get you out of here. You can go on living your lives as if we never met, and you'll never have to worry about aliens or time-travel again. It's your choice."

"Doctor—" Cutter said.

"It's my fault you're here in the first place," the Doctor said. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to." He looked at Roxy, and she knew that the questions wasn't just about the whole "zombies in 1939" thing.

"I'm staying," Roxy said. "We can't expect you to take care of this yourself. Cutter and I might not know that much about aliens or whatever, but we can at least stay to support you."

Cutter looked at her, then nodded. "I'll stay too. These guys took me in when I was lost. I owe them this much."

The Doctor was silent for a few seconds, then he smiled. "Brilliant," he said. "I've just got to do a bit of research for now, but you two stay close, just in case I need you." With that, he disappeared inside the TARDIS.

"We'll be fine," Roxy said as she and Cutter sat down at the edge of the stage. "The Doctor knows what he's doing. We'll be home in no time."

"You trust the Doctor, right?" Cutter asked.

"I…I guess so," Roxy said. "I mean, in a situation like this, I kind of have to trust him. Why?"

Cutter shrugged. "I trust him too. It was one of the first things I noticed about him, how easy it is to just let him take care of everything." He looked at Roxy. "You're a bit like that too, you know? The Doctor reminds me of you sometimes."

Roxy remained silent for a little while. It was true, the Doctor was very easy to trust. He was confident about a lot, and he hardly ever seemed to be truly lost about something. She hadn't considered herself to be the same way, but who knows? Perhaps there was a lot more she didn't know about herself.

"The Doctor thinks I'm a Time Lord," Roxy said. "He says that if I open my watch I'll remember everything about myself."

"So why don't you do it?" Cutter asked.

"Because I'm scared," Roxy said, hardly even pausing to think about it. "What if I turn out to be absolutely terrible? What if it turns out that the reason I changed into a human was because I was running from something, or that someone was after me?"

Cutter smiled a little. "You worry too much, Roxy. That's all you ever seem to do. You worry about the future, you worry about what you're going to do, you worry about what people think. You need to stop worrying and start taking chances. Before I go, can you promise me you'll do that?"

"Before you go?" Roxy asked. "Cutter what are you—?" But she couldn't finish the question, because Cutter had just collapsed onto the ground, screaming in pain.

"Get away from here!" Cutter yelled when Roxy tried to get close. He screamed again, curling into a ball on the ground.

"Doctor!" Roxy screamed at the top of her lungs. "Doctor, please! Help him!"

The Doctor ran out of the TARDIS, pulling Roxy away from Cutter. His skin was now the sickening gray that had plagued the other kids, and his eyes snapped open. They were white.

"We have to get him downstairs," the Doctor said. Roxy was shaking, and she could hardly move. "Roxy, we need to get him out of here. Come on." They eventually managed to get the once-was Cutter into the room with the other two creatures.

When the door was shut again, Roxy leaned against the Doctor and started to cry.

* * *

**Thank you for reading!**


	8. The Artist

**So, here's a new chapter! I hope you're still reading, and that you're liking the story so far. It's almost done! **

* * *

Roxy sat on the TARDIS floor, leaning against the door. In her hands, she held her fob watch, turning it slowly, her fingers brushing the button that, if pushed, would open it. The Doctor glanced at her every once in a while. The TARDIS was still in the process of finding a cure for the virus, but he hoped it would figure it out very soon.

"Are you okay?" the Doctor finally asked.

Roxy shook her head. She felt exhausted, and sad. She wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep for the rest of eternity.

"I'm just sick of this," she said quietly.

"Of what?" the Doctor asked.

"Of all these choices," Roxy replied. "Of not knowing what's going to happen. Of finding out that everything I know about myself is just a figment of my imagination." She paused to wipe at her eyes. "Do you know how that feels, to wake up one morning as one thing, then end up being something completely different?"

The Doctor was quiet when she asked this.

"You do know the feeling, don't you?" Roxy asked.

"Yes, I do," the Doctor replied.

"What happened?"

"I was running," the Doctor said. "There was a family that, in a sense, wanted me dead, but it wouldn't be long before they died themselves, so I changed myself into a human."

"And then what?" Roxy asked. "Did you just change yourself back?"

"It took a bit of convincing," said the Doctor. "I didn't want to change back, see. I thought my life as a human was far better, although, of course, I had no idea what my life as a Time Lord was like. But I—" he paused for a second. "I was in love. Or, rather, the human me was in love. And something like that compromises everything."

Roxy looked down at the fob watch again. "What made you change back?"

"We were in danger," the Doctor said. "Everybody would've died if I hadn't changed back."

"And what happened to her?"

"I asked her to come with me," the Doctor said, more casually this time. "But she refused. I suppose I'm a bit glad that she did. It would've been a bit strange."

"So everything changes," Roxy said. "Even the way you feel about someone."

"The Chameleon Arch changes our true personalities," the Doctor said. "But that doesn't mean that we can't keep it that way."

"Doctor," Roxy said. "I—"

Suddenly, the TARDIS started to make a strange noise. The Doctor looked back at the screen. "Yes! I found it!" he exclaimed. "Isopropanol!"

"What?"

"Key ingredient in glass cleaners," the Doctor explained. "It practically burns off the infection!"

"So, all we have to do is douse them in Windex?" Roxy asked.

"Yes!" the Doctor exclaimed. "See, that 'treasure' that the little boy found was a meteorite, which I destroyed, but it wasn't even from this solar system."

"So how did it get here?" Roxy asked.

The Doctor shrugged. "Not by accident, I'm afraid. I think this might be part of some sort of invasion. Anyway," he ran into another room. "No time to lose! We've got zombie-creatures to save."

"Doctor," Roxy called.

"Yes, don't worry Roxy," the Doctor emerged with two large spray bottles that were filled with blue liquid. "It'll only hurt them a bit, and when it's over, they'll be completely back to normal."

"Doctor," Roxy said again.

The Doctor finally looked at her. "What?"

Roxy pressed the fob watch's button. With a click, it snapped open.

The Doctor almost dropped the bottles. He had certainly not expected this to happen. Light came out of the watch, and he could hear the voice within it, Roxy's voice. He put the bottles down and went towards her. Before long, the light was gone.

Roxy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then they snapped open, and she looked up at the Doctor. There was something different about her eyes. They were brighter, and somewhat happier.

"What's your name?" the Doctor asked.

The Time Lady smiled. "Right down to it, are we?" She paused. "Is that what my voice sounds like now? Interesting." She looked back at the Doctor. "Anyway, I'm sure we can save all of this for later. Wouldn't want to keep the zombies waiting."

"I need to know who you are," the Doctor said. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to end up releasing a threat onto the universe."

"And why would you?" the Time Lady replied. "I'm young, defenseless, the last of my kind. I'm no threat. I don't even have a TARDIS. Well, not with me, anyway."

The Doctor looked at her for a few seconds. "Why did you change yourself into a human?"

The Time Lady pursed her lips. "I was running, like you," she replied.

"From what?"

"The war," she said. "I thought it was pointless to fight, so I chose not to. I stole my father's TARDIS, regenerated into the form of a child, and hid. It was a bit strange at first. It was my first regeneration, you see." She paused. "Can't say I was leaving much behind. Both my parents died in a terrible accident years back. I had a few friends, but," She looked at the Doctor. "They're all gone now, aren't they? We really are the last ones."

The Doctor nodded. "There's no one else left. But, tell me, do I know you?"

The Time Lady laughed. "How would you know me? I was just a poor student at the University when the war started. I was close to graduating, too. Only had about a decade left."

"What chapter?" the Doctor asked.

"The Patrex," she replied.

"You're an artist?"

The Time Lady nodded. "Musician, engineer, painter, actress, you name it. There's very little that I can't do. I was top of my class. I guess that's why I was drawn to the theater as a human. It made me feel safe."

The Doctor smiled at this. "So, is there a name, or even a title for you, Time Lady?"

The Time Lady smiled. "Ruthalia."

"Is that your real name?" the Doctor asked.

Ruthalia looked away. "I haven't used my real name in almost a century. It keeps me from getting too attached to people."

"I see," the Doctor took her chin in his hand and looked into her eyes. "Well, you seem pretty healthy. So that's it with you? You're not a criminal, not a renegade? There wasn't a price on your head when you left? All you wanted was to stay out of the war?"

Ruthalia shrugged. "Fights are useless. I've never picked up a weapon in my life. I was raised to create beauty, not destruction."

The Doctor smiled. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Ruthalia."

Ruthalia smiled. "The pleasure is all mine. Now, shall we?" She gestured towards the spray bottles.

"By all means," the Doctor replied, handing her one.

Spray bottles in hand, the Doctor and the Time Lady ran down the stairs. They stood outside the door and listened, but all was quiet. Quickly, they opened the door and stood back.

The room was empty.

They looked into the room, shocked and surprised. The creatures were gone, with absolutely no trace left behind.

"How is this possible?" Ruthalia asked. "They're mindless creatures, aren't they?"

"They're either more clever than me think," the Doctor replied. "Or there's something else controlling them." He glanced at Ruthalia. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"

"I'm not exactly an expert in aliens," Ruthalia replied. "I don't have any first-hand experience, either. The first time I ever even left Gallifrey was when I ran away."

"You never—" the Doctor gave her a shocked look. "You must have had a terrible childhood."

"My whole family was a bit…conservative on traveling," Ruthalia replied. "Truth be told, they were conservative about everything."

"Sounds awful. Well, no time to lose," the Doctor said. "Those creatures are out there somewhere. We'll be in trouble if we don't find them soon."

"Do you think they might still be here?" Ruthalia asked.

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver, trying to pick up a signal. "They're upstairs." Suddenly, they heard a scream over their heads. The Doctor and Ruthalia ran out of the room and up the stairs. There, still on the stage, the other kids were cornered. The zombies of Lilly, Timmy, and Cutter neared, slowly, their arms outstretched.

"Do we spray them?" Ruthalia asked.

"No, not yet," the Doctor said. "We need to find out what they're doing here."

"What, you think they'll just tell us?" Ruthalia rolled her eyes. "No offense, Doctor, but those creatures aren't entirely eloquent. I doubt you can just start a conversation with them."

"Oh, you think so? You're suddenly the expert on strange creatures, aren't you Miss My-Family-Never-Let-Me-Out-Of-My-Own-Crib? Miss I've-Never-Even-Seen-A-Star-Up-Close."

"I never said that!" Ruthalia exclaimed. "I've seen plenty of stars up close! And don't you talk about my family!"

They kept on bickering. So much that neither of them noticed that the creatures had actually redirected their attention towards them and were now getting closer and closer. It wasn't until Matthew yelled "Doctor!" that they actually turned away from each other and saw the problem. They lifted the spray bottles, their fingers on the triggers.

"Stop," the Doctor told them. "I won't hurt you if you agree to tell me why you're here."

The creatures stopped walking, and they cocked their heads, as if they were actually trying to understand the words they had heard. They stood like that for a little while.

Suddenly, one of the creatures, Timmy, spoke up. "We come to repopulate." Its voice was rough and wheezy, like a balloon losing air.

"Our planet has been lost," Lilly said in a similar voice.

"But why Earth?" the Doctor asked. "Why humans? I hope you realize that this is an invasion, and I'm not about to stand for that kind of nonsense on this planet."

"Humans are compatible," Cutter suddenly said. "Other creatures reject us, but humans are strong enough to hold us."

"Or perhaps they are too weak to fight." the Doctor said. The creatures were silent. "I've studied you. You lock onto another creature as a virus and feed on their energy. You have lives that can last up to thousands of years, but think about it. The lifespan of a healthy human being is, at best, ninety or so years. If creatures like you lock onto a human, the human will eventually die, and you'll have to find new bodies; new hosts. But you can have populations of billions, trillions, just by passing on the virus. All it takes is one touch; one tiny, single touch. Within a century you'll have no more bodies to lock onto, and the moment your human host dies, you'll die with it." The Doctor looked at the creatures intently. "Is that really what you want?"

"We must endure!" Timmy exclaimed. "We must keep fighting no matter what! All humans will be ours!" They began walking towards them again, their arms outstretched.

"Here's a news flash," Ruthalia said to them, lifting her spray bottle. She glanced at the Doctor, who in turn gave her a slight smile. "We're not humans."

They started spraying the creatures. The moment the glass cleaner touched the creatures' skin, it began to bubble and fizz. It was like adding vinegar to baking soda. The creatures screamed in agony, falling to the floor and practically writhing. The gray of their skins began to melt away, revealing more normal, more human skin tones. Their eyes went back to their normal colors. Soon, all three of them were breathing hard, but they were back to normal.

The little girl, Lilly, started to cry, and Matthew ran over and picked her up off the ground. The other kids crowded around, making sure that they were okay. Cutter sat up, still breathing a little hard and looked at the Doctor and Ruthalia.

"Why do I smell like Windex?" He asked.

Ruthalia lifted her spray bottle. "Isopropanol," she said. "Cleans windows, and fights zombies." She held out her hand to Cutter and helped him to his feet. "How do you feel?"

"Like I was changed into a zombie and back," Cutter replied with a shrug. "Does this mean that we can touch each other now?"

"Well," Ruthalia replied. "There might still be a few people infected with—" she was cut off by Cutter pulling her into a hug. She was reminded that this was something that humans did a lot, and decided it was safest to just hug him back. She glanced at the Doctor, who smiled at her, and she smiled back.

"Thanks, Roxy." Cutter said.

"About that," Ruthalia said, pulling herself away. She felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of her stomach. "We should talk."

* * *

**Hope you've enjoyed it so far!**


	9. The Forgotten

"So, you're actually an alien?" Cutter asked, his voice bearing hint of hurt. "All this time, you weren't human at all?"

"Not necessarily," the Doctor said. He flipped a few switches and pressed a button on the TARDIS's control panel. "The Chameleon Arch made her completely human. No doctor or physician would've ever noticed anything wrong." He smiled at them. "Except for me, of course."

"It also changed everything else about me," Ruthalia said. "The way I think, my emotions, my personality. You could probably say that Roxy was the complete opposite of me."

"Yeah, but," Cutter shook his head. "This is just so weird. I mean, physically, you look exactly the same. You haven't, I mean, you're not different. Even your voice is the same."

Ruthalia gave him a sympathetic look. "If it's any comfort, I hardly understand the technology at all. It would take forever to explain why it chose to put me into the twenty-first century, and why it made me into what Roxy was." She paused. Cutter was looking away, wearing a distraught look on his face. She lay her hand on his arm. "She really cared about you, Cutter. She couldn't have asked for a better friend than you." Another pause. He still wasn't looking at her. "She loved you."

Cutter looked back at her for a couple of seconds. "What about her family?" he asked, deliberately steering the conversation away from other thoughts. "She had parents and siblings. Aren't they going to be suspicious when she doesn't come home?"

"Perception filter," Ruthalia replied. "I set it up for when I changed back. The moment the watch opened, everyone Roxy ever knew or had any sort of contact with forgot her. They might remember her from time to time, but they won't know who she is. It'll be like remembering a song but having no idea what the title is, or where you heard it." She shrugged. "Her family will live on, as will her friends."

"Except for me," Cutter said. "I still remember her, clear as day." He gave Ruthalia a determined look. "I'll never forget her."

"I'm so sorry," Ruthalia said softly. "But there's nothing you can do to stop it. The moment you step off the TARDIS, the moment you look away from me, she'll be lost to you."

"No," Cutter said firmly, his eyes harder than Ruthalia had ever seen them. "I won't forget her, ever." He turned away from Ruthalia and leaned over the railing. Ruthalia looked at the Doctor, but he just gave her a shrug. She looked away.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "So, everybody ready?"

Neither of them replied. Instead of pressing them, the Doctor flew the TARDIS out of 1939, and into the time vortex. It was a shaky ride, but before long, they emerged back into 2012.

"Here we are," the Doctor said as cheerfully as possible. He ran to the TARDIS door and threw it open. "Ah, America. Great place for chips. I like chips. Good fish too. Fish and chips, that sounds brilliant." He looked back at the other two. "Who's up for that, ey? Fish and chips, maybe in the 1960s. What a great time, the '60s." He stepped out into the hot summer sun. "The British invasion, the fight for peace, brilliant hair styles too." He looked back at the TARDIS. "So, how 'bout it?"

Cutter and Ruthalia stepped out of the TARDIS. Neither of the them looked at the Doctor, nor did they reply to any of what he was saying.

"So I guess this is it?" Cutter asked, choosing not to look at Ruthalia directly.

"It doesn't have to be," Ruthalia said softly. "You could come with me," she looked at him hopefully. "There's plenty for us to see, and you haven't seen space yet."

Cutter shook his head. "I don't think I could bring myself to do that." He looked down at the ground. "The first day we met the Doctor, when that stone angel was after us," he paused. "I thought I was the luckiest man alive, to be able to travel back in time." He spoke in a low voice, but his words were full of powerful emotion that seemed to cut into both of Ruthalia's hearts. "I'd give anything for that day to disappear. I want to go back to who I was before, and I want Roxy there with me. I was a fool to believe that it would all be okay in the end."

Cutter began to walk away, but before he could take a step, Ruthalia put her arms around him and kissed him so suddenly that even the Doctor was taken aback. Cutter, although surprised, kissed her back. The Doctor watched as Ruthalia pulled something out of her pocket and pressed it against Cutters open palm. It glinted against the sunlight, and the Doctor realized that it was her fob watch.

Ruthalia whispered something into Cutter's ear, and Cutter, looking more distraught than before, nodded. Ruthalia stepped away, and Cutter began to walk towards the Doctor. Wordlessly, he shook the Doctor's hand and then walked off into the sunlight, leaving the Doctor and Ruthalia standing next to the TARDIS. Together, they watched him go, and before long, he was out of sight.

Cutter walked down the street. He frowned a bit when he couldn't remember what he had come out here to do. He was only a few blocks away from his house. Was he on his way somewhere? He couldn't quite remember. The sun was beating down mercilessly, and Cutter noticed quite suddenly that he wasn't wearing summer clothing, let alone anything that he would actually want to wear. He turned and headed back to his house. Whatever he had come out here to do, it would come back to him eventually.

He suddenly noticed that he was holding something in his hand. He looked down with curiosity, seeing a small, silver fob watch, like the kind that was worn back in the 20s and 30s. He couldn't remember where he had gotten it, but he didn't remember having seen it before. The watch had strange markings on it, but he had no idea what they meant. He pressed the button, and it clicked open. He was slightly surprised to see that it was working, and the time was even accurate. Cutter smiled a bit, not incredibly bothered that this watch had so suddenly appeared in his hand. He put the watch into his pocket and walked home.

* * *

The Doctor and Ruthalia stepped back into the TARDIS. He went straight to his controls, and she closed the door, leaning quietly against them.

"So," the Doctor said. "No more Weeping Angels and no more zombies. Everybody's safe. Well, sort of. But now, there's something else that needs to be taken care of."

"And what would that be?" Ruthalia asked.

"You," the Doctor replied. He walked down the ramp and stood in front of her, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants. "Now then, what am I going to do with you? You're still young, so you're bound to make plenty of mistakes if I let you out on your own. Not to mention you're still technically a minor."

"Well, I'm not staying here with you." Ruthalia said. "And I'm only a minor by Gallifreyan law, which, unless I'm wrong, doesn't exist anymore."

"Well I can't just let you go off on your own," the Doctor replied. "You probably don't even know how to fly a TARDIS properly."

"From what I can tell, Doctor, neither do you."

"What I'm saying," the Doctor said. "Is that the responsible thing for me to do would be to keep an eye on you until you're mature enough to handle things for yourself."

"No, you're just saying that that's the responsible thing to do because you don't want me to leave." Ruthalia looked the Doctor in the eye. "I get it, Doctor. I'm the frist Time Lord you've met since the Master was killed. Up until now, you thought you were alone in the universe. You've had human companions to keep you from being lonely, but it's not the same. And now," she reached up and touched the Doctor's cheek. "You have me, and I have you, and both of us are so lucky to have each other." She smiled. "Now, when you feel lonely, you can remember that you're not the only one. That somewhere in the universe, I'm there, and you can find me when you need me."

"But what if something happens?" the Doctor said. "What if you're in trouble and I can't get to you? What if you can't regenerate on time?"

Ruthalia looked away for a second. "Doctor, we'd be running that risk even if I stayed with you."

The Doctor nodded. He sighed. "I guess there's no argument to that, is there?"

Ruthalia smiled at him. "I want to show you something before I go."

* * *

When the Doctor and Ruthalia stepped out of the TARDIS, it was dark out. They had landed in the middle of someone's backyard. There was a shed near the house, a vegetable garden towards the right, and a large oak tree that cast a calm shadow over the already peaceful, suburban scene.

Some of the house's windows glowed with warm light, and they could hear a soft murmur of conversation coming from inside.

"This was Roxy's house," Ruthalia said, standing just outside the circle of light. "There's a ladder over there which she used to get on the roof with. She would spend hours up there, just staring at the sky. She fell asleep up there once and almost fell off until her cat woke her up."

The Doctor smiled. "She was a nice girl. A bit serious, but still," he noticed the way Ruthalia looked at the house. He recognized a sad sort of longing in her eyes.

"She had a wonderful family," Ruthalia said softly. She attempted to keep her tone conversational. "Her mother was very supportive of her. She went to every show, yelled at her about her grades. I never expected humans to be so...caring. Her sisters were all quite nice as well." She glanced at the Doctor. "Even though they've forgotten her, I still feel kind of...bad for taking Roxy away from them."

The Doctor remained silent. He understood that at times like these, input wasn't entirely necessary. It was around this time that he realized that there were tears in Ruthalia's eyes.

"Anyway," Ruthalia said, wiping her eyes smoothly. "That's not what I brought you here to show you." She led the Doctor to the shed. It looked like any other backyard tool shed. It wasn't particularly large, and its white paint was faded and scratched in many places. Ruthalia went to the door and pulled a key out of her pocket. She fitted it easily inside the key hole and slid the door open.

Ruthalia stood back and waved the Doctor inside.

"It was my father's," Ruthalia said, closing the door behind them. The Doctor looked around the TARDIS, his expression awestruck. "It was part of my inheritance, so I didn't exactly steel it." She looked at it fondly. "It's been wonderful finding my way around. There's so much that I haven't discovered yet."

"Beautiful," the Doctor said. "Absolutely brilliant." He listened to the hum of the controls and smiled. The last working TARDIS besides his own. Brilliant.

* * *

**So that's the end of another chapter :D**


	10. The Reunion

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and smiled. He loved Paris, especially by moonlight. It was a beautiful sight. Thousands of lights illuminated the city, and in the distance, he could hear jazz flowing through the air. He took a deep breath, and let it go with a sigh of satisfaction. He had always loved the Roaring 20s. This had to be one of his favorite time periods.

He left the TARDIS parked at the base of the Eiffel Tower, and walked towards the sound of the music. He knew that where there was music, there was dancing, and where there was dancing, there was joy. He could use some joy right now, and a little dancing never hurt anyone.

He arrived at an outdoor bar of sorts. People milled around, drinking and speaking in French, and on the dance floor, couples reenacted their own versions of the popular dances of America. A small, elevated stage held the band, complete with the saxophone player, the drummer, a piano player, a bassist, and a singer. Every member of the band was male except for the singer. She was a young woman, probably in her early twenties, her blonde hair crimped into the fashionable short style of the era. She had a very nice smile, and she wore a white dress complete with pearls and a thin wrap. Her voice was honey-sweet, but quite powerful.

The Doctor sat at the bar, watching the energetic dancers. They turned and hopped and went all over. The place was very alive, which lifted the Doctor's spirits. He looked around for a dance partner, eager to give it a go.

As his eyes swept the place, he caught the singer's eyes. He may have been wrong, but he thought that he saw her eyes flash for a moment. Then she smiled at him; a sweet, almost knowing smile. For some strange reason, he got the feeling that he knew her.

The Doctor turned away and ordered a drink. It wasn't common for him to drink, but then again, just one couldn't hurt. Behind him, the music changed into an instrumental slow song, and couples swayed around with their arms around each other.

"Oh Doctor, I never knew you liked the twenties," a sweet voice behind him said. The Doctor spun in his seat, and came face to face with the singer from the band. She smiled up at him.

The Doctor looked at her for a second, tempted to pull out his glasses. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The young woman laughed softly, brushing her hand through her hair. "I've changed a bit since our last meeting. I guess you could say that I've left my past self behind." She shrugged a bit. "I was getting a little sick of that shapeless brown hair, and my horrible stature that made me tower over everyone, and those worried looks I could never brush off my face." She looked back at the Doctor. "You remember?"

The Doctor blinked, and then it clicked. "Ruthalia!"

She beamed up at him, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, Doctor, I've missed you. I haven't seen this you in so long."

"This me?" the Doctor asked. "You've met my other regenerations?"

"Only the future ones," Ruthalia said with a shrug. "Don't worry, I'm not changing your past."

"But," the Doctor looked at Ruthalia's blond hair, fair skin, and dazzling blue eyes. "What happened? Why did you regenerate?"

Ruthalia's smile fell a bit. "I can't tell you. You know the rules and such. It's something for you to find out on your own."

"I'm there when you regenerate?" the Doctor asked.

Ruthalia shook her head. "I didn't say anything like that. What was it that friend of yours is always saying? Oh, yeah," she smiled. "Spoilers."

"You mean that archeologist?" the Doctor asked. "River Song?"

Ruthalia nodded. "Lovely woman. She kind of reminds me of you."

"You know my future, and you're not going to even give me a clue?"

"Well, by any standards, it is only a potential future. Anything could happen." Ruthalia looked back onto the dance floor with a serene look. "I absolutely love Paris. The language is beautiful, the people are intriguing..." she sighed with satisfaction. "And the music. No one can play jazz like the French."

"Well," the Doctor said, smiling at the now-changed version of the young girl he'd once met in a theatre. "Fancy a dance?" He held his hand out.

Ruthalia looked down at his hand, then back up at him. "I should be a fool to refuse such an offer, Doctor."


End file.
